


Challenges Of Dragon Age

by Neferit



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Tragedy, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neferit/pseuds/Neferit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a woman on Thedas in the Age of Dragon can be trying. Just like they learnt the hard way. But there are still things worth fighting for. And while doing so, they will show the arrogant bastards how to do things like a boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fanfiction about more Wardens participating in the Joining at Ostagar. And this is what came of it. Uhm, read and hopefully enjoy?

**Alison Cousland** never thought she was something special, never believed in herself much.

 

Being the younger, in childhood often seriously ill child she was pampered and prohibited from mostly everything until the old Aldous, together with Mother Malol cornered her parents and persuaded them into allowing her to light exercises at first, slowly teaching her how to swim, how to ride a horse or how to wield a sword or shoot an arrow. It worked wonders on her health, although she always remained short, her skin pale, almost transparent, only rarely being coloured by slight blush. The Dalish who used to travel around Highever every year were used to seeing her quite often them – and unlike most of the shems they welcomed Couslands in their camp. They teasingly called her _da’len_ , a child, because of how small she was. And as long as she could spend her time among them listening to their stories and their craft, she wouldn’t have minded even if they called her an idiot. For all their tales and care they bestowed upon her she asked her parents to buy her a book of Shartan for her birthday, so she could repay her elven friends their kindness by giving them one more tale to share amongst themselves.

 

As she grew older, her looks proved to be quite deceiving, though, hiding away her quick tongue and cunning mind behind her sweet smile - as well as surprising strength in one so small and obviously delicate. And she was glad for that - nothing was better than to surprise someone.

 

Her family hoped that their Alison will be politically influential once and thus trained her in rhetoric, strategy, knowledge of courtly protocol and diplomacy just like her brother. She enjoyed being lady-like, just as not being a lady so much - just like her mother wished. One day she was about to became some man’s equal partner.

 

Had it not been for the deal the King Maric and Teyrn Loghain made years ago, she would have become a Queen. Skilled tactician, diplomat and beautiful woman of one of the highest possible births in Ferelden, she was one of the best candidates for the Queen, when the King Maric was lost on the sea.

 

She was of Couslands of Highever, and sometimes she felt as if she could have the whole world.

 

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

 

Living in the close quarters of Denerim Alienage was good, as well as it could be horrible at the same time, **Taramis Tabris** was sure about it. The elves were practically defenceless and the shems around let them feel it as much as they could - as was proved to Taramis when lifeless body of her mother was brought back to the Alienage.

 

She considered herself very lucky to find a job in noble's estate - and not just some noble - in the estate of the second most influential person in the country, Teyrn Cousland and his family, one of the few nobles who actually viewed their elven servants as human beings, not just some knife-eared thrash.

 

Once, she fell from the stairs, breaking a valuable vase in the process. Just when the main chambermaid started yelling at her something about useless knife-eared wenches, she was interrupted by sharp "what, by the Maker, has happened here?"

 

"That elf broke the vase, your Grace," answered one of the other servants, stealing a fearful look on the main chambermaid. The woman nodded eagerly. "Told you so, your Grace - that knife-ear is..."

 

"What is the reason for all the yelling?" sounded new voice, this time voice of the young lady Cousland.

 

_'Crap.'_

 

Now she was really in trouble, as it was well-known fact that the vase was a family heirloom, passed between the Cousland women. And now it was no more, because she just had to trip over that damned carpet and break it. She was doomed and this was definitely the worst day of her whole life.

 

She must have lost a track of time when she was thinking because suddenly, the young woman was kneeling by her side, asking: "Are you alright?"

 

"Y-yes, I am, my lady," she stuttered, unused to being addressed directly.

 

The young woman smiled. "Then I'm glad. C'mon," she stood up, pulling Taramis' aching self with her. "You're coming with me, as my personal lady's-maid for the times we will be in Denerim."

 

For a moment she thought the teyrn's daughter making cruel fun of her. But seeing the agreement in Teyrn's face and the fury in the main chambermaid she finally believed it and let herself be led to the chambers of young lady.

 

"You may call me Alison when we are alone, if you want," said the young lady. "Do not worry about the vase, though - better it was the vase than your neck what was broken. And Maker," she grimaced, “that vase was hideous, wasn’t it?”

 

Sometimes, she thought as she returned lady Alison’s smile, sometimes even the worst moments of your life can turn into the best.

 

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

 

"What is your name?" asked a small blonde girl.

 

Taller, dark-haired boy turned to face the intruder of his privacy. "My name is Jowan. And you are?"

 

"Solaris," replied the girl. She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Will you be my friend?"

 

Not knowing what else to do, he nodded a bit absent-mindedly, his thoughts once again turning towards the research he was supposed to do for one of the classes. Instead of the reading he was supposed to do he soon found himself teaching her towrite.

 

She was focused on book opened in front of her, tip of her tongue stuck from her mouth in concentration about getting the shape of "A" right. Soon, he scribed her whole alphabet down for her, explaining how to lead the quill to make the desired shapes.

 

**S O L A R I S A M E L L**

 

“Look – I know how to write my name!”

 

Jowan sighed. Little did he know that he will be sighing like that for a long time since now on. Actually, that he will be doing that every time he will be taught something she didn’t know before.


	2. Baptism of Fire

**Solaris**

I should have known something will turn bad in the eve of such a glorious day, when I had been called to take my Harrowing, pass the Harrowing and become a full member of the Circle of Magi. If only I had realized that there was a _real_ reason for Jowan being nervous about his Harrowing…

After I exchanged several words with the red-head templar, Cullen, something told me I was being watched. Very closely. And not in the way I became used to. Taking Duncan to his rooms, I asked every question which ever came to my mind about the Grey Warden.

“How many Grey Wardens are here in Ferelden?”

“Not nearly enough, I’m afraid. Greagoir refuses to let more mages to join the King’s army.”

“I’ve heard about some mages who left for Ostagar. How much more would you need?”

“I would like to place two mages for every contingent of the army. Alas, with seven mages I simply can’t do that.”

“Tell me, Duncan – you’ve been a Grey Warden for quite a long time, yes? Have you ever encounter a blood mage? They say it’s terrifying sight…”

“Only once. Several templar were fighting one mage, a woman, who managed to turn some of them against their comrades with the blood magic, so she could escape.”

“I’m… I’m sure that everyone would do anything in their power in order to survive.”

“That is very much possible. And what about you, young lady? As a full mage of the Circle, what are your plans?”

“Maybe….” Now I found myself hesitate for a moment, “maybe I could join the King’s forces. I know a few things about healing – and have been trained in battle magic, too!”

“If you seriously think so, young mage, I will speak with Greagoir and Irving on your behalf.”

“That would be very kind of you, ser,” I answered gratefully. Although Greagoir wasn’t spiteful or something like that, after all that troubles I caused with Jowan as children I was still a bit self-conscious when it came to talking to Knight-Commander. “And here are your rooms. Please, enjoy the rest of your stay,” I finished, excusing myself quickly, my heart hammering in her chest. Maybe I will get out of the Tower and be useful!

My thoughts were interrupted by a voice. “So, I see you’ve finished your talk to Irving…”

“Jowan?” I asked, my voice gaining a suspicious undertone. “Have you been following me this whole time?”

“Yes. Please, Sol, I need your help in a,” his voice fell into whisper, “rather delicate matter.”

“Delicate matter?”

“Shh! Not so loud, please. Look, let’s go to somewhere safer.”

“Alright, Jowan, lead the way.”

Now this was definitely a mystery to me why he was leading me to the chapel. In one corner a young mage, Keili, had been praying like crazy, always excusing to the Maker for the curse of magic in her veins, bringing other mages furious about her. Most of them took themselves as normal people – with additional talents. She took them all as cursed ones. Jowan stopped beside a young woman, another red-head member of the Chantry.

“So,” he said, turning to face her, “here we are.”

“Well, not trying to be a smarty pants but – in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a priestess right here,” I told him, eyeing the priestess. She gave me one of those Chantry owned smile I never could stand and told me: “I’m not a priestess yet,” which Jowan added with “you remember I told you about meeting a girl, yes? This is she. This is Lily.”

I gave them another look. “So, if meeting your girlfriend was all you wanted to tell me,” Lily blushed at my words, “I think I’ll just go and finish the rest of my arrangements.”

“No,” was stopped by Jowan, this time by a rather desperate plea. “That wasn’t all. We need your help.”

“Jowan is going to be made Tranquil. I’ve seen the paper about the rite of tranquillity – signed by both Irving and Greagoir.”

“Tranquil? Jowan? And why?” I didn’t quite understand why anyone would turn Jowan Tranquil. Yes, he may be a bit slow when it comes to mastering a new spell, I thought, but otherwise he’s rather harmless…

“They suspect me of being a blood mage,” replied Jowan, making me shudder. A blood mage. Almost against my will I blurted another question: “And are you?”

“Of course _not_!” When looking back at the whole thing I could see the traces on insincerity – but in that time I didn’t paid it much mind, promising them both help for their escape. It showed to be quite a problem in the beginning – I had to get the rod of fire – and for that I needed a requisition signed by one of the senior mages.

For the first few moments I was unsure about whom I should ask for signing it for me. Maker – every single one of them could grow suspicious and the whole plan would go bad. Then idea hit me. Senior Mage Sweeney. I kind of liked this man, as he was one of my teachers, always patient with a thing for pranks. If I told him I need the rod for one prank or another, maybe he would help me with this!

“Hm, rod of fire you say? And what do you want it for?” he asked. As I breathed in to answer his question, he interrupted me, writing his name in large letters on the parchment, “Wait. I think I do not want to know – but promise me you’ll use it for some prank. The Tower has been way too silent lately.”

Well, _that_ much I could sincerely promise him, I thought while taking the rod of fire from Owain. This will be one of the biggest pranks of the last years.

But afterwards, everything went wrong by each passing moments. First it was the rod of fire not working on the lock to the phylactery chamber, causing us to have to take another route. When I was hit by a spectre sword, _again_ , I was really becoming angry.

And then the phylactery chamber finally came. Lots and lots of small glass balls filled with blood of every apprentice in the Tower, with a name scribed under it.

“Such a small thing between me and my freedom…” said Jowan a bit dreamily while holding his phylactery in his hand, gazing at it. Dropping it, all of us flinched at the sound of breaking glass.

“Let’s leave this place,” I offered, suddenly feeling cold. I thought I’ve heard something and that made me even more nervous. And now I knew what it was. Irving and Greagoir knew about us the whole time and caught us red-handed.

The worst thing was yet to happen – Jowan drawing a dagger, stabbing his hand, the whole world becoming enveloped in crimson and pain bursting in a white colour, only to be followed by blackness of unconsciousness.

The happenings after I regained my consciousness were swift. I was to be punished for helping a blood mage – probably made Tranquil, if Duncan didn’t step forward and conscript me.

Walking in the middle of a small group of Grey Wardens towards Ostagar, as Duncan left us with several other Wardens in order to go to Denerim, I stole one last look at the Tower, thinking about the friends I was leaving behind.

“I’ll be back,” I promised to myself. “I’ll. Be. Back.”

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

**Taramis**

When I woke, I had been greeted into the new day by my cousin Shianni. And then I was told I am going to be married. Today.

I wanted to be angry at my father for forcing me to marry Maker knows whom and be angry at my fiancée to show up earlier than he was supposed to. Yet when my father gave me shoes made by my mother, I started to be really nervous, especially after I was told not to show my 'talents' too soon. _'Tell the bird not to fly...'_ I thought. When I finally met the man I was supposed to marry, I just couldn't even try to be angry anymore. If for nothing else, it was because Nelaros wasn't like any other man I've ever met.

I could drown in his light blue eyes, in their crystal depths. My heart started beating madly when he smiled, showing off white teeth, as he took my hand and asked me, what do I think about this day. In sudden attack of sincerity I blurted: "I was nervous - but then I saw you and am not really nervous anymore."

His eyes softened at my confession. "I will spend my every waking moment trying to make you happy," he said quietly, and I just knew he meant it. I... I thought we would kiss - just right in that moment Soris' voice sounded, high and pitched just like it always was when it meant trouble. As we learnt later, it was only the beginning.

The wedding ceremony later has been interrupted by the Arl of Denerim's son. Lord Vaughan. There had been some problems with him before - and that bastard returned with his guard to cause more problems. Mother Boann just started to say her prayers when she was interrupted. Almost against my will I pressed Nelaros' hand. He shot me a reassuring glance, pressing my hand slightly in return.

Vaughan said what he was up to very quickly, too. To bring some "female guests" at his party. And those guests were supposed to be... us. He picked his "guests" amongst us - both bridesmaids, Shianni and Valora. Soris threw me a desperate glance, while Nelaros stepped slightly in front of me, partially shielding me, whispering "don't worry, I won't let them take you."

It was to no avail. Two of Vaughan's guards grabbed him and suddenly I found myself standing in front of the man, while he was already undressing me with his eyes. "Touch me and I'll gut you," I told him, suddenly full of eerie calm.

He only gave me a slow smile and soon after I found out what that meant. One of his fellow nobles got around me and hit my head with something. Before I knew that, I was on the ground, the darkness quickly darkening my vision. Last thing I saw was Nelaros - his handsome face white, eyes full of determination to do... what?

I did not have the time to think over that, as I woke up to Nola's chanting the Chant and a big dwarf running all around inside my head, swinging his hammer around savagely, the others surrounding me. None of us had any idea about how much time passed since they brought us here - but one thing was clear. We were about to be beaten, raped and most probably killed and disposed of afterwards.

My guess was made sure very quickly; the doors to the room we were locked in opened and a group of guards - some of them I recognized from before - walked in, intending to bring us to Vaughan. Nola rose from her kneeling position and shrieked at them: "Stay away from us!"

One can never forget how someone's eyes become lifeless. They took the others, leaving me and two guards there. I was about to be beaten and brought in chains to Vaughan and his companions, as I was 'the scrapper' - but there was sudden twist of situation, as I prepared for fighting them as long as I could.

"Uhm, hello?"

Soris. He was pale - but he had a sword he passed over the floor to me. The guards turned around to look at me. I let my lips twist into a grin. On my sign Soris jumped on the back of one of the guards, knocking him over, while I charged on the other one. Now we were about to have some... fun.

I was doing the best I could to keep from being covered in blood, which I mostly succeeded. After the fight, I looked around for Soris. He was kneeling by Nola's side, his face even paler - if that was still possible. Standing up abruptly, he turned to face me, gripping my upper arms.

"You're... alright?" he asked me. I gave him a small smile. "You came just in time. Just... where did you get the sword?" I asked, as there was no sword - only a handful of daggers - in the whole Alienage. The shems prohibited us from being armed.

Soris shrugged. "We got the sword and a crossbow from Duncan, the Grey Warden we met in the Alienage." The Warden. Yes, I remembered him. Tall human, giving us a friendly smile when I asked him to leave immediately, as none of us wanted some trouble. Another thing hit me. "You said ' _we_?'"

"Nelaros... lost it to the people who wanted to keep on waiting. I..." he looked just so unsure now, "I couldn't let him go alone."

My heart skipped a beat here. As we were making our way through the estate, here disposing of the guards by poisoning their drinks, here sneaking behind them and splitting their throats, all I could think about was Nelaros.

He came for me.

It looked as if we got to the hall he guarded just in time to save him. He gave his sword to Soris, so now he was defenceless against the guards who found him and entertained themselves by kicking him around. I started to see red. Without caring about how much blood will stain my dress I run into the room, attacking the nearest shem like a savage. From the corner of my eyes I've seen Soris passing a free sword to Nelaros and than my whole attention was once again fully on the shem I was fighting.

I knew all too well how covered in gore I am - yet when the fight was over, Nelaros grabbed me into his arms and pressed me against him. Almost against my will the tears filled my eyes, ready to spill. But the others were waiting and I could only hope they will be at least in one piece. And yet we came too late. Too late for Shianni.

Vaughan's comrades were obviously even more stupid than himself. And they thought I will let myself be paid and return for what remained from my cousin. That bastard. I _so_ enjoyed killing him. Part of me was horrified. Mother always told me I shouldn't take pleasure in killing - but in the end I just couldn't bring myself to care, when I held the trembling body of my cousin in my arms.

The rest of us was relatively unharmed, mostly swallow cuts or bruised. Soris carried Shianni, together with Valora and Lora they were going short distance ahead of, leaving me and Nelaros in relative privacy. He draped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and I let myself to rest against him all the way back to the Alienage, while in hushed tones we were discussing the whole situation.

"You came for me," I whispered to him, looking up to meet his eyes. It struck me what I've seen in his eyes - it was similar to what I remembered from the looks mother and father kept on exchanging, and my heart started racing again. Our moment lasted only for a short time - soon after our arrival back to Alienage the guards came. And they wanted the person who killed Vaughan.

Without thinking I stepped forward. "It was me." Crap. Did I just doom myself? From corner of my eye I've seen Nelaros struggling to say something, to stop me from turning myself in when something stopped him.

The captain obviously didn't believe a word I said - but looking on how bloody I was, he decided to take my word. When his subordinates moved to get me, a calm voice broke the sudden silence. "Captain, if I may have a word..."

Duncan.

The man who gave Soris and Nelaros weapons to free us was now stepping forward to save me from being imprisoned and hanged, probably not being treated nicely during my stay in the prison by offering me a place amongst the Grey Wardens. The captain had completely poker face at Duncan's words. Yet in his eyes I could see... _relief_? Even if he tried not to show it much. Grumpily, he said Duncan can have me - but I have to leave Denerim until sunrise. With that, they left.

It sent me panicking. What? Sunrise? But... but...

"Father, is mother Boann still in the Alienage?" I turned abruptly to my father. To his surprised gaze I explained: "I still am supposed to get married to Nelaros - should he want to be married to me," I added a bit unsure.

He wanted. Mother Boann was still in the Alienage, praying for our safe return and was more than ready to perform the rites. I was still a bloody mess and Nelaros was sporting several bruises, cuts and cracked ribs - but I still thought him to be the most handsome man I've ever met.

"Yes, I do."

Three simple words made our destiny, a ring and our first kiss sealing our marriage. And the only night we got together left us both aching for more. Even if he was a blacksmith, he still touched me as if I would break. We had to wash first – but still… Our love-making was slow and tender. And bittersweet. When I had to leave, I thought my heart will break any moment.

Sitting slowly on the bed, I fell silent for a moment, examining the ring. It fit on my finger, as if he knew how to make it. I had my memento – but what to give to him? I reached for my necklace; it bore a simple gemstone in the place of pendant.

“They will say I’m dead, that there is no hope of me ever returning back… If the pendant breaks, then it will be true,” I told him, pressing the necklace into his hand, closing his fingers around it. He wanted to get up with me, to see me leave but I stopped him. “Please, Nelaros – stay. I want to keep the memory.”

And so I left him there in our bed, body still soft from our love-making and full of the sleepiness which comes from being sated. I still had to pay one last visit to Shianni. She was awake and when she saw me, her eyes lit. She thought me her hero, who came to her rescue when she was on her worst.

If there was some hero, it wasn’t me.

Looking over my shoulder I let my gaze rest on the gate to the Alienage. As much as I always wanted to leave, I now wanted nothing but stay.

Fate has sometimes very twisted sense of humour.

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

**Alison**

This is not what it was supposed to be like.

It shouldn't be castle of my family burning, our people being slaughtered in their beds. It shouldn't be done by someone who was always considered to be a friend.

_Betrayal._

The word stung in my mind. Arl Rendon Howe. "I have a bad feeling about this," I told mother during the evening, after brother and most of our men departed for Ostagar.

"Me, too," she said uneasily, her gaze searching around the hall for my father, who currently spoke with Duncan and Howe. He returned her gaze with a small smile and she seemed to ease down a bit. But the sense of foreboding stayed with me the whole evening during the dinner and even when the sleep claimed me later, I still felt strangely agitated. And it wasn’t just from the knowledge that it will be me who will rule over the teyrnir, while Cousland men are at war and my mother over with her friend. In the middle of the night I knew what it was.

The castle was attacked.

I woke to the muffled sounds of someone crying out, Lord - my Mabari - barking furiously in front of the closed doors. I barely had time to snatch my sword from the chest by the wall when the doors flew open and I was fighting for my life. And then those men were lying dead on the ground before me and all I could do was stare at all the blood covering my formerly white nightgown. Then the realization hit me. Orianna. Oren. Mother. Father.

Just in my nightgown and with Lord by my side I've run out of my room and attacked the intruders. When I got into my brother's quarters, I could just helplessly watch how Orianna tries to protect her son, little Oren, with her own body - only to be stabbed by one of the men. I started to see red. With a howl that could easily compare to the howls of our Mabari hounds and dropping my sword I threw myself on the man, breaking his neck even before we could hit the ground, Lord taking care of the other man. I reached for the sword again and went to check on Oren.

His eyes were so big, so scared, and so full of refusal to understand what's happening. He was completely limp when I gathered him in my arms, hugging him close.

"Mommy..."

I caressed his hair. What do you say when a little boy sees his mother being murdered in front of him? Noise behind me made me release Oren in a flash, hiding him behind me, so everyone who would try to hurt him would have to get through me first - and this time, they will have to kill someone who had been trained to fight.

Luckily, it was only mother, already armed and from the look on her face prepared for the worst. And that was what awaited us - the men attacking the castle were bearing the emblem of the house of Howes. We decided that escape is the only thing available to us - but the sword and shield of Highever, the heirloom passed through the generations of Couslands is not to be taken by Howe. Hiding Oren we left him with Lord on guard, quickly creeping to the treasury. Strapping the shield on my back, I replaced one of my blades with the family sword.

"But where is Bryce?" I've heard mother murmur. Her question was answered soon enough, as we were fighting again in the main hall, helping the few of our troops, together with my dear friend, ser Roland Gilmore, to fight off several of Howe’s men who managed to get into the castle in the beginning of the attack.

“Your Grace, my lady,” he turned to us when the fight was over for at least a short moment. "I've seen Teyrn being helped by the Grey Warden to the servant's entrance. He was wounded."

“Thank you, ser Gilmore,” said mother and together with Lord she already was on her way. I lingered to speak – probably for the very last time – with Roland.

“You know it’s only matter of time before they break through the gates, don’t you?” I asked, looking up to his face. He hesitated, if only for the shortest of moments. “I will do my duty to your family, Alison,” he answered in hushed tones. Rising on my tiptoes, I leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Fare thee well, Roland,” I whispered, tears flowing from my eyes, as I turned away and left.

 _‘No. Father can't be wounded,’_ I thought desperately while running after mother. But as we found out when entering the larder, it was just matter of short time when the death will claim my father. He was clearly relieved to see us, although his eyes darkened with sadness when he heard about the fate of his daughter-in-law and the incoming breakout of the castle gates.

Another hard blow came soon after. “I won't survive standing,” said father, responding calmly to our urging for leaving.

"I'm afraid the Teyrn is right," sounded another voice from behind us. Duncan. He helped father to get here and went to search for us, we were told, shortly joining the fights on the corridors of the castle and returning here, after he was told by Roland we were already on our way here.

What came next was one big blur with several clearer moments. Father asking Duncan to help us escape. Mother refusing to leave father's side. Father crying for the ending of their marriage being like this, only to be hushed by mother, who caressed his cheek, cradling him in her arms, kneeling in what seemed like a small lake of his blood. Duncan saying he has to ask for a favour - me becoming a Grey Warden, in exchange of helping me to get to Ostagar and carry the news to the King and Fergus. The gates being broken through. Duncan getting up to his feet, carrying Oren while dragging me with him.

 Through all the screaming at him to let me go I remember with crystal clarity my parents holding their hands my way and saying: "We love you."

_'Mother, father, my dear friends... I'll avenge you...'_


	3. No Fear

 

**Solaris**

It was rather odd to be outside the Tower. I mean, after sleeping always only in bunk, it’s very, _very_ uncomfortable to sleep on the ground, no matter the quality of your bedroll. Every time I moved my head, I could feel my vertebras creaking, because sometime during the night I happened to end in such a haphazard position that it just begged my body to ache.

Among the Grey Wardens who were, well, _escorting_ me to Ostagar was only one mage, Cassius. His hands were covered with scars, so when I asked him about his specialization, I wasn’t overly surprised that he was actually a blood mage.

“What led you to becoming one?” I asked him one evening, really curious. I believed that Jowan became a blood mage mostly because he thought it will make him a stronger mage, and from the little I remembered it did.

“It was either becoming a blood mage or lyrium addicted. I chose the former,” he replied, giving me a sideways glance. Well, that made sense. I’ve seen several mages after they were over-using lyrium – and it had not been a pretty sight. From what I’ve been told, quite a few of them also ended in Aeonar, to make sure they weren’t dangerous to anyone.

“Is that, well, _normal_ amongst the Grey Warden to become blood mages?”

“Grey Warden mages sometime become abominations themselves to stop the Darkspawn. As the rest of the order, we will do everything in our powers to do our duty,” said Cassius with an undertone of finality in his voice. He rose from his seat by the fire and beckoned to my bedroll. “Go sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow we will arrive to Ostagar.”

We did. And after our arrival started time of waiting for the rest of the order, just as the rest of the recruits, to arrive. During the fifth day I was almost tearing my hair from boredom, because so far my only fellow recruit was a knight, who would jump off the cliff just to not be alone with me or even near me. Supposedly, he won some tournament, thus Duncan recruited him. Not to seem to think he was incapable or such – but seriously, Duncan, I would have thought you will recruit someone who’s at least a bit smarter and not so narrow-minded.

Luckily, two new recruits arrived only few days after us. Both rogues, Daveth and Taramis, human and elf. Taramis seemed to be sincerely relieved that she’s not the only woman amongst the recruits – and after one short talk with Daveth I perfectly understood why.

The man was simply insufferable and after one of his next tries to woo me I just thought _‘Jowan, Jowan… you damned idiot. All of this is your fault.’_

The rest of the Wardens were keeping mostly to themselves, making us feel _so much_ welcome amongst them that sometimes I thought that being made Tranquil wouldn’t be such a bad thing; after all, I completely wouldn’t mind being left out of anything. When I asked, they usually answered, but nothing behind the basic politeness. And I was praying for the last batch of recruits soon, otherwise we end one recruit short. Or with one recruit being way worse for wear.

At least Taramis seemed to be rather normal and willing to talk to a mage. Guess that being an elf convinced of murdering a perverted noble makes you rather open minded towards mages who were convinced of helping out a blood mage.

And here they say that becoming a Grey Warden is a privilege. Privilege, my ass.

**Taramis**

The way towards the Ostagar is luckily uneventful, as much as a travel of one woman amongst several men can be. Amongst the Grey Wardens was surprisingly another recruit – a rogue of name Daveth. Daveth would be a rather nice fellow, if he didn’t spend most of his time by trying to flirt with everything what walked on two legs and had boobs. But like this, it almost seemed pointless to show him my hand, point at the ring and say “see? I’m married. Meaning I’m _off the market_!”

He just wouldn’t stop, driving me insane the whole time. When we finally arrived to the army’s encampment amongst the ruins of Ostagar, it was as being freed from very, _very_ long imprisonment.

“There should already be other recruits here,” said one of the Wardens, Ron, if I remembered correctly. Now that piqued my interest. “Other recruits? And who may that be?” I asked, trying not to sound overly eager.

“A mage and some sort of knight,” answered another of the Wardens, Gregor. Even amongst the humans he was standing high, looking more like a bear than human, big beard and voice like thunder. At least to my eye and ears, that’s it. And finally, we met those who were to share our fate, Solaris Amell of the Circle and Ser Jory of Redcliffe.

Solaris seemed to have some brain in her head and we got along quite nicely from the very first moment, while Daveth took to picking on Jory as often as he could. Well, it was not that Jory didn’t deserve that. That man just _asked_ to be mocked.

Right after another round of Jory picking, when Jory left, angered at all of us, we’ve seen some movement in the King’s part of the camp. The King himself went o greet the newcomers – big group of soldiers of Highever, the Cousland laurel on shields, Fergus Cousland leading them, meeting the King on the great bridge.

From what I’ve heard when I came closer to the tents of Highever men, the Teyrn himself, together with the men of Arl Howe, was expected to arrive on short notice after Fergus. Yet the days went on – and neither the Teyrn, nor the Arl arrived yet. Even then I was still rather unsure to come nearby Fergus. All the Couslands treated their servant fairly – but it was still rather strange to just come and start talking to him. In the end I just went over and said: “My lord?”

He was obviously thinking about different things than the war camp, as he turned around to face me. “Yes? What can I…” his eyes widened slightly. “Hey, I do know you. Taramis, right?”

“Yes, milord,” I nodded; quite surprised that someone beside Alison remembered my name. I mean – there were quite large numbers of servants both in the Denerim estate, as well as in the Highever Castle. We talked for a short moment when the question I was so afraid of came: “And how comes you’re here in Ostagar, Taramis?”

The fateful question came. And so I told him, how it happened. To my surprise he didn’t seemed shocked at all – more pleased than anything else.

“Good. Then the bastard finally got what he deserved.”

That piqued my curiosity. “’What he deserved?’” I repeated. “What do you mean, my lord?”

Truly, I would never imagined that quite a few of nobles actually tried to get Vaughan punished for what he kept doing. Sadly, nothing ever came from it – he was too good in what he was doing, leaving no witnesses and getting rid of any evidence leading to him. No wonder – every witness was either killed or traumatized enough for not showing their face where Vaughan and his lackeys could see it.

The next few days went quickly, although now even I started to worry about the Teyrn. It wasn’t like him, to be so late without any warning. Finally, the King called Fergus, ordering him to scouting the wilds. He wasn’t overly thrilled by the prospect of scouting; I could see that, so I wasn’t overly surprised, when he sent one of the camp elves, Pick, to me, asking me to come. He was pacing in his tent, holding several sealed scrolls.

“Do you think, Taramis, that you could make sure those letters are delivered?” he asked.

I nodded. “Of course, my lord. Can I do anything else for you?”

Walking out of his tent he hesitated. “Have you ever had such a strange feeling of foreboding? I’ve been feeling that ever since I left Highever – and this unexplained delay is not easy on my nerves, too.”

“I did. Once.” Yes. Once – and then they carried the dead body of my mother, I thought. Turning to face me Fergus said: “Wish me luck, Taramis.”

“Good luck, my lord,” I said, as he mounted his horse. Nodding his farewells he and his men rode from the camp.

Later that day I had the chance to deliver the letters. But truthfully, it gave me no pleasure.

**Alison**

“Are we there yet, auntie?”

I couldn’t quite understand how the things which happened only few days ago have such a small impact on the little boy. Well, small… he had nightmares about flames and blood but otherwise, he was almost completely fine.

“I do not know,” I answered in calm voice, although I was weary of the question. Oren obviously thought it funny to ask every once and then. I obviously didn’t, although I still was able not to snap at him.

“Only a little further into the wilds,” answered Duncan.

I couldn’t quite understand how he could be still so calm after my breakdown on the third day of our journey, Oren’s nightmares waking us in the middle of the night and my snapping at him every time he asked me how I feel. Part of me understood he did what he had to by conscripting me to the Grey Wardens. The other part hated him for not leaving me in the Castle of Highever, so I could fight for my parents and in all probability die with my people. I once watched my image in the water, when we were stopping by the stream. I couldn’t see much – just the slump of my shoulders, tightly pressed mouth, tired lines around my eyes. What a sorry look I had to be. Yet every time I looked on the family shield and read the inscription on it, _Officium primoris_ , _Duty first_ , I felt a surge of determination to fulfil my father’s promise about becoming a Grey Warden.

Lord barked happily. I allowed myself a small smile. _‘Of course you would be happy, my puppy_ ,’ I thought fondly, _‘as our arrival to Ostagar means you will no longer have to carry Oren as if you were a pony.’_ Lord was taking it calmly, carrying Oren, but I could see it left him sore and tired. I did all I could to ease the ache of my faithful mabari – alas, my options were very limited.

And then the white stones of Ostagar ruins came into sight. Oren got off Lord’s back and pressed against my side. “Oooh, auntie, you see this?”

“Yes,” agreed Duncan, corners of his mouth slightly turning upwards. “This is Ostagar, formerly a stronghold built by the Tevinter Empire to protect the Imperium from Chasind. It’s quite… fitting that we use it to face another enemy…”

“Duncan!”

“Your Majesty,” answered clearly surprised Duncan, bowing to the man in golden armour. Golden armour, familiar features, blonde hair, voice almost always full of enthusiasm… Maker, it was the King himself! I was so surprised I forgot to salute my monarch, sudden fear gripping my heart. Did Fergus arrive as was planned? Did the King already receive the news of house of Couslands of Highever being murdered in the middle of the night? Will he even recognize me? He certainly have seen me more than once, every time the Landsmeet came I was in Denerim with my parents.

I wasn’t paying attention very closely to the exchange between the Commander of the Grey and the King, when I’ve heard King saying: “You sent message about arrival together with your last recruit… I take it this is she?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Duncan, beckoning to me, “allow me to introduce…”

“No need, Duncan, we’ve already made acquaintances in the past. You’re Bryce’s youngest, Alison, yes?”

I looked down towards Oren, who was currently staring open-mouthed at the King. “Oren, darling,” I said to the boy, “please, go over there to play with Lord, will you?” Luckily, he didn’t protest and I could turn my attention back to the waiting monarch.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I’m Alison Cousland, and I bring you grave news,” I told him, trying to sound calm. He nodded. “I thought as much. When is Bryce coming?”

The question was like a punch to my face. Through suddenly clenched throat I only managed say: “You don’t… know?”

King was obviously confused. “Know about what? Duncan, what is this supposed to mean?”

“The Teyrn is not going to arrive, Your Majesty. He and his wife, Teyrna, were murdered by Arl Howe, as well as probably most of the inhabitants of the castle,” answered Duncan instead of me.

_“What?!”_

Well, that was a surprise to the King. The reports were obviously either unreliable or they weren’t at all. And even then none of the reports said anything about the happening at castle Highever.

It left a bitter taste in my mouth. The King may have promised me that once the battle is over he will make sure that Howe is punished for what he has done. But it didn’t lessen the tight feeling in my chest when he said that Fergus is on patrol in the Wilds and has yet to return. From what the King said, it was apparent he didn’t really believe this was a real Blight and after excusing himself he left, joking about Loghain sending a searching party after him.

“He doesn’t seem to be taking this overly… seriously,” I said hesitantly.

Duncan nodded solemnly. “That much is true.” He motioned for me to move on the bridge, Oren already being there, chasing Lord before us, his laugh ringing through the crisp morning air when Lord run in front of him, turning every few steps to bark at him teasingly, keeping just out of the boy’s reach.

“We have to prepare the Joining soon,” said Duncan, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Joining?” I repeated. That sounded ominous. “What do I need to do?”

I was left to look through the whole camp, supposed to be looking after one of the Wardens, a junior member of the Order of the name Alistair. Oren and Lord were supposed to being taken care by Duncan, who promised me to hide them as well as possible, since now we could never be really sure who else is against Couslands. And as a Cousland, I had another duty to perform. Looking for the man was the last on my list right now. I needed to look for our men and tell them what happened.

As was very much expected, they were furious and promised revenge. Surprisingly, all I had to do was to shout at them for silence to calm them down. I explained the whole situation to them, the King promising justice, me and Oren currently the only survivors from the castle. Inside I was trembling, as this was the very first time I ever stood in front of our men as their commander. And now I commanded them to promise me they won’t try for revenge on their own, that they will wait for orders from me, Fergus or King himself. Grudgingly, they swore what I wanted to hear from them. Promising to go to see them before the battle I departed to look for this Alistair guy.

The other Wardens I met – I could recognize them as their armours and shields wore the Grey Warden insignias – weren’t overly welcoming to yet another recruit but at least had the decency to point me in the right direction. So I found him in ruins of something what obviously used to be temple of sorts. And he was arguing with one of the Circle mages. I’ve seen him only from behind – he had quite a sense of humour, to tell the truth, though. When he turned around my breath hitched a bit in my throat. He was very… handsome, to say the least. It only made me realize how shabby I had to look. When his eyes fell on me, I did my best to stand straight and not to run behind the nearest column.

“I take it that you are the Grey Warden I’ve been told to look for, Alistair?” I asked, my voice luckily calm and composed. He just grinned at me. To my surprise, he already knew about me, although he clearly couldn’t remember my name. Together we went to the Grey Warden part of the camp. The others were already waiting for us. Another surprise waited for me there – I actually knew one of the other recruits.

“Taramis!”

“Alison!”

At any other time I would be laughing over the open mouths of the other recruits. We fell into each other’s arms and just held each other. We were always good friends before – but I guess that now it wasn’t just me who was relieved to see a familiar face. Sound of coughing brought us back to the reality.

“Now that all of you are here…”

I listened to Duncan words intently. He was still the same calm Duncan, yes – but in the undertones of his voice I could hear uneasiness. I asked some additional questions about the things we were supposed to do – go into the Korcari Wilds, get several vials of Darkspawn blood, find some Grey Warden treaties and return back as soon as possible. Alistair was to accompany us, as the junior member of the Wardens.

I exchanged a glance with Taramis. She nodded; something didn’t sound quite right to her either. Was that the reason why the other Wardens weren’t paying us much attention, mostly overlooking our presence?

And why the hell are the others looking at me, as if I, of all available people, was the leader?


	4. Time for Damnation

 

**Taramis**

It was rather strange to weave through the trees of the Korcari Wilds. I mean, the forest was eerily silent, the only animals showing up being the blight wolves, as Alistair called them. We all sort of surrounded Solaris; her being a mage was making her the most dangerous, yet the most vulnerable of us.

I walked next to Alison, stealing glances at her. The normally smiling young lady had her eyes surrounded by black circles; her hair dishevelled and was that blood, those dark spots on her attire? And what was she doing in Ostagar anyway?

“My lady?” I asked her in hushed tones. She made a grimace. “Not you, too, Mis. It’s Alison to you, remember? You wanted to ask something, didn’t you?”

I nodded. “What happened, Alison? I can’t imagine the Teyrn would let both his children to go to battle…”

She went even paler. After a silence which stretched for a long time she spoke at last: “After we return to the camp, I will tell you everything, Mis. Just… not now.”

The talk was abandoned, as the first Darkspawn appeared in front of us. Alison shouted for Jory and Daveth to protect Solaris, while the rest of us charged at the Darkspawn. Alistair told us later that those were called Hurlocks and Genlocks. Well, later being the time we stopped throwing our insides up. He tried to smooth the situation with a joke – with not much success at that front. Solaris cast several spells to calm our rebelling stomachs – but just the sigh of what could happen to a person, if they became corrupted by the Taint was enough to send us to throw up again.

“Help…”

Someone was calling, a tiny voice full of pain. We ran after the voice, discovering a soldier who had been sent on patrol. The rest of the patrol has been butchered by Darkspawn; just he managed to crawl out of the site of ambush. Solaris cast a healing spell on him, while Alison bandaged his more serious wounds and questioned him about happenings of the ambush. We even offered to take him back to Ostagar camp which he refused.

“You heard him?” asked Jory, his voice raising up to that near hysterics point. Well, none of us looked exactly calm, that’s true – but no one looked so close to nervous break as Jory did. Most of us calmed down when Alistair told us that we wouldn’t get ambushed as the patrol did, because the Wardens could sense the Darkspawn.

Maker, how much I hated to venture through this Blight ridden swamp.

 

**Solaris**

When I watched my companions, I couldn’t help but notice that Alison and Taramis knew each other better than they were willing to show at first sight. Yes, the way they held each other sooner spoke volumes – but ever since then we were almost constantly moving and there wasn’t any time for more throughout questioning, although the questions burnt at my tongue. There were already way too many things I did and even more things I didn’t know about my companions. Taramis was from Denerim Alienage. Daveth came with her – but he originally came from a small village near Lothering. Ser Jory was a knight from Redcliffe, who married a woman in Highever, so he spent most of his time there, as I heard him explaining proudly to Alison right now. Alistair has originally supposed to become a templar, but then Duncan showed up and made him a Grey Warden. But Alison, Alison…

Alison moved like someone who was used to leading, and as no one seemed to complain about that, she was leading our small group of misfits. As she walked in front of me, I took the time to observe her, the way she moved, and the way she gesticulated when she spoke… After all the books I’ve read about human behaviour I hoped I would be able to asset her personality quite well.

She carefully schooled her features into an expression of calm. She moved gracefully. And she grimaced when piece of the swampy mud landed on her hand. That would speak about her higher upbringing. She was a daughter of a wealthy merchant or a smaller noble, that would also explain how she knew Taramis, I thought. She spoke in calm tones but could bark orders as any of the drill sergeants in the army, if I ever heard one. The paleness of her face, the dark circles under her eyes, as well as the way her shoulders squared when she thought no one was looking told tales about great personal loss, a death in family or maybe she had been a naughty girl and got caught, thus sent to Ostagar? The way she playfully flirted with Daveth, who was showing unusual amount of charm would support this theory.

Carefully, we made our way through the wilds, apart from the Wardens’ tower and Darkspawn blood searching for some sort of wild flower, last will of some missionary of name Rigby and looking for Chasind cache, following some Chasind Trail signs. How did they even spot them on the ground or on the bark of trees was completely out of my understanding, unless they specifically pointed where the sign was, I didn’t see it.

_‘Yuck.’_

Damn, how I hated stepping into the smelly mud.  Especially if it was so cold like it was today. Sometimes I wondered why people wanted to escape the Tower so much.

After spending most of the afternoon by running around the Wilds we finally found the Grey Warden outpost. The ruins of the tower were still recognizable amongst the rest of the Tevinter ruins all around. But the chest, which should contain the treaties, was broken.

“Great – so all of this for a broken chest?” asked Daveth, his voice annoyed. From what he told me, he came from a small village near the Wilds, and after all those tales of Witches of the Wilds it made him uneasy to be here. Yet it didn’t stop him from flirting. I thought that it was his way to deal with the stress – flirt with everything what moves.

Our search around the ruins had been interrupted by a new voice. “Well, well… what have we here?”

All of us reached for our weapons, facing the intruder. It has been a rather scantily dressed woman. Daveth screeched something about Witches, Alistair switched on his templar mode. The rest of us just watched the woman descend from the remnants of stairs.

“I watched you for some time and I thought: ‘who are these people? Are they vultures who want to feed on the treasures of those who are long dead?’”

“We are no thieves,” answered Alison, making us all jump as she broke the silence which descended on us before. “The Grey Wardens owned this place before. We were sent to retrieve some of their possession.”

“It’s no longer here,”” informed us this woman. I almost snorted. _‘Har har for stating the obvious,’_ I thought.

“And how do you know? Did you steal them, you sneaky… sneaky witch thief?”

The woman just rolled her eyes after these questions Alistair blurted and after Daveth’s gibbering about the Witches making frogs of them. “What about you?” she spoke towards Alison, who watched the exchange with a lightly amused expression. “Women tend to not be as easily scared as men do. What is your name?”

Alison surprised us all when she gave the woman the traditional Fereldan salute. “I’m Alison, recruit of the Grey Wardens.”

The woman nodded in acknowledgement. “So Alison it is. You may call me Morrigan.”

“Will you tell us, Morrigan,” started Alison carefully, “where are the treaties which should be in the chest here?”

“My mother took them.”

After another amusing exchange between Morrigan and the men – something about ending in a pot, the pot being warmer than the wilds and some strange reference to frog time - Alison said with impatiently: “Morrigan, you said your mother took the treaties. Could you take us to her?”

Funny, how quickly things move when there’s someone smart enough in charge. Alison and Taramis once again took the lead as we followed the strange woman deeper into the wilds. And obviously, our dose of surprises was yet to be filled.

There was a small house, a hut, deep in the wilds. An elderly woman exited the hut as soon as we were there, her piercing gaze resting on each of us. I could sense powerful magic from the woman. She truly did have the treaties – and together with a rather mysterious warning she handed them to Alison, who was standing closest to her.

“Thank you for giving them to us, my lady,” she said, doing a curtsy while accepting the treaties. Alright, I probably made a mistake by saying that she would be daughter of a merchant. Noble, she definitely was a noble. No one else would be able to look so graceful and, well, _noble_ while being covered in mud in the middle of nowhere.

The strange woman just laughed. “Such manners! Always in the last place you look – like stockings…” she finished thoughtfully and I never had such hard time not to start laughing as I did now, not even during Senior Enchanter Sweeney’s lessons – and from the look of it, I wasn’t alone in the sentiment.

To our surprise we were led by Morrigan out of the forest, finding ourselves back at the gates of Ostagar, although none of us had any idea how we got there.

“Let us go to Duncan,” said Taramis. Duncan looked quite surprised to see us; I thought that maybe he expected us later. Giving him the vials with blood – anyone else thinking about phylacteries? -  and treaties, Alison hesitantly told Duncan about our meeting with Morrigan and her mother. He nodded, acknowledging the report and telling us to come into the old temple after sunset. We still had several hours before anything, be it our ‘Joining’ or the battle itself, should start.

I wanted to ask Alison some questions – but when I looked around, she already left. Now, that definitely wasn’t nice.

 

**Alison**

As soon as Duncan told us we were allowed to have some time for ourselves, I quickly motioned Taramis to follow me. We quickly weaved through the camp, up to the part where Highever men camped. As Fergus hasn’t been here, one of the men pointed it out that I could use his tent. I lead Taramis there, so we could have some privacy.

 “You asked how comes I’m here,” I started conversationally. Taramis nodded, staying silent. I continued. “The fact is that father wouldn’t have let me go, under normal circumstances.”

 Tears once again appeared in my eyes and I blinked furiously to keep them back. “They are all dead, Taramis,” I whispered. “Arl Howe attacked our castle as soon as most of our forces left for Ostagar.” My explanation was short. Howe’s men attacked the castle. I and mother fought our way through the castle. We found dying father. Duncan found us. The gates were broken through. Duncan dragged me and Oren through the secret entrance to castle. I was crying when I finished, Taramis’ arms around me. She told me she had similar tale – but will tell me later, now is time for other things.

She told me that Fergus left several letters, and after bringing them over, she left, saying we will meet in the old temple. My hands were trembling so much I almost dropped the letter, once I broke the seal on the letter addressed to me.

_Dear sister,_

_We arrived to Ostagar with no trouble at all and the King himself went to greet us. You can imagine how much it boosted the morale of our men, when a figure in golden armour appeared on the bridge to Ostagar._

_So far we already fought several smaller skirmishes with the Darkspawn and at least Cailan is growing quite impatient by waiting for the head of Fereldan Grey Wardens. Please, if Duncan and Ser Gilmore still have to take their leave, ask them to make it quick. The sooner the battle takes place, the sooner we all will be able to sit in front of a hearth, instead of letting our butts freeze here._

_Sis, I probably should not write it down but… I’ve got damn bad feeling about all of this. Father and Arl Howe should already arrive and they are still not here. We have no reports from lands northern from Ostagar and it makes me uneasy._

_But you know me, probably making a mountain out of a molehill. I’m sure that once the Darkspawn are defeated, we will have a good laugh about that, once Orianna stops scowling her pretty face at me because I already have an absolutely amazing sword for Oren._

_Take care of the family, sis. Stay safe._

_Yours,_

_Fergus_

_‘Oh, brother,’_ I thought, _‘how right you were…’_

I spent the rest of the time I still had with Oren, reading him the letter, left by Taramis. He was a bit disappointed that we missed Fergus – but the prospect of the sword his father had prepared for him made him fairly happy. Just one thing ailed me – is there even a place where Oren would be safe, once the battle starts? I asked one of the soldiers. The healers’ part of the camp was supposed to be the farthest from the area where the battle should take place, so after short thinking I took him there. One of the mages, young woman of name Eileen took care of us, preparing place for Oren to sleep and healing my wounds which were still not completely healed.

Even then, the evening came sooner than I would like, as Oren falling sleep in my arms proved. Tucking him in, I kissed his forehead and tiptoed away. I had a Joining to attend to, and a sick feeling settled in my stomach as a stone.

Upon my entrance I’ve heard voices of Jory and Daveth, arguing about something, Solaris’ annoyed sigh and Taramis’ giggle. Jory found it unfair that he had to take so many “tests” before he was even recruited and even then it was just test after another test, Joining being the last of them. And Daveth argued with him. Well, he had a point. We all could die during the Joining – or we could survive. I remembered part of the book about Grey Wardens we once read together with Fergus when we were younger. _‘Anything to achieve victory over the Darkspawn…’_ I think that Couslands had more in common with the Wardens than one would have thought. _‘Duty first.’_

Alistair came soon after me. I could feel his eyes on me and it made me think that maybe I have some dirt on my face or something like that. I know I was still probably pale after the last few days, and I could use a change of armour at least – but when you’re mostly lacking the time, things like this are usually the last you think about.

And Jory was still nagging about the Joining and how he already earned a place amongst the Grey Wardens… it suddenly got on my nerves, so I snapped at him in a way which would usually make me blush scarlet. But not right now. “Grow some balls, Jory! I don’t think Helena would be overly pleased to know that her husband acted like a coward!” Ooops. I never asked him his wife’s name, as I now realized. Luckily, Duncan took that time to arrive.

“So finally we come to the Joining… The Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight, when humanity stood on brink of annihilation…”

I let Duncan’s voice wash over my ears, as he recounted the tales of Grey Wardens. But then he said: “… that was when the first Grey Wardens drank of the Darkspawn blood and mastered their Taint…”

Heck, heck, _heck_. We were supposed to drink the _blood_?! One of us had to think aloud, as Duncan answered: “Yes. As did the first Grey Warden before us, as we did before you. This,” he said, raising the silver chalice in his hands, the liquid in it glowing in the darkness, “is the source of our power – and our victory.”

Alistair finished Duncan’s speech: “Those who survive the Joining will become immune to the Taint.” He looked around to look into eyes of each of us. “We can sense in it the Darkspawn – and use it to slay the Archdemon.”

Silence followed, each of us locked in the swirl or thoughts, memories running in front of our eyes, only to be interrupted by Duncan asking Alistair to say ‘few words before we start the Joining’:

“Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be foresworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day, we shall join you.”

That was when Duncan motioned to Daveth to step forward, handing him the chalice. “From this moment on, you are a Grey Warden,” he said as Daveth was taking the chalice into his trebling hands. Daveth’s eyes flew around the old temple, looking into our eyes. It was as if he was saying his farewells.

Bringing the chalice to his lips, he drank. Duncan took the chalice and watching Daveth carefully, he stepped back for a bit. That was when the whole situation changed. Daveth gripped his throat, gasping for air. Not really knowing what I’m doing I leapt to him, catching him as he was falling to the ground. His fingers gripped my arms, so tightly I was sure it will leave a bruise, his eyes turning back into his head. He was desperately gasping for air. After what seemed an eternity his agony finally ended, the sudden silence interrupted only by Duncan’s hushed voice: “I’m sorry, Daveth.”

Next one to undertake the Joining was Solaris. She was the only one of us who seemed completely calm and collected through the whole time we were here. When she raised the chalice to her lips, she just smirked: “Just another Harrowing, eh?” I didn’t quite understand what she meant by that. And then Solaris finally drank the blood and with terrible sense of foreboding I knew she is going to die.

When Duncan stood in front of my, raising the cup, I blurted: “Promise me you will take care of Oren.” Silence. I was a bit dumbfounded by myself, that I really said that. Breathing in and out slowly, I repeated: “Promise me you will take care of Oren, if I do not survive the Joining. Otherwise,” I paused, “otherwise I will fight my way out of here just like I did back at our home.”

He just nodded wordlessly. I felt stares of Taramis and Alistair boring into my back but I couldn’t care less. Raising the cup to my lips I drank the blood myself, sending small prayer to the heavens.

‘ _Maker help us all.’_


End file.
